


Under The Midnight Sun

by gothamsoul (roughknuckles)



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, Superboy (Comics), Superman (Comics), Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Fortress of Solitude, Kissing, M/M, Morning After, Possibly Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-10
Updated: 2007-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2114205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roughknuckles/pseuds/gothamsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark Kent is off-world.</p><p>In his absence, Bruce is at the Fortress. As is Conner, looking for answers.</p><p>[relevant story arcs: (implied) Superman: World of New Krypton]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under The Midnight Sun

Sunlight usually made Conner feel good. Sunlight was what he lived on, it was in his pores, in his very cells. Right now, however, Superboy was hiding from the painful light under his blankets. Every time he peeked over the top of them, the room whirled and he felt like barfing up whatever the hell it was did this to him last night.  
  
"Ughn ..." he groaned stale breath into his pillow and shifted, going still when his elbow contacted something, someone else beside him.  
  
On top of the blankets, the figure next to Conner was wearing the remaining layer of a pressure suit, which fit tightly over his large frame. "Sh-" Bruce grumbled.  
  
The blankets were torn down in surprise, to Conner's wide shoulders where he clutched them to his chest. There were no words for this situation. All he could do was stare with his mouth dropping a little more open by the second, his eyes as round as goggles. " ... "  
  
Bruce lay there in silence for several seconds more, then minutes, but as his internal clock hit ten minutes, he began to stir. Sitting up in bed, legs over the side Bruce cracked his neck to one side, then the other. He ignored his companion at first before finally addressing him, speaking over his shoulder, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. "Are you going to stay there all day."  
  
Conner coughed before he could actually speak. The entire ten minutes had been spent staring at BATMAN and thinking one word over and over. _WHATTHEFUCK?_  
  
"You ... I ... don't remember. How? Why? I ... " At least Bruce was still dressed. That meant, that had to mean, that meant that they didn't ... Of course they didn't. Batman didn't do that sort of thing, and if he did, he sure as hell didn't do it with someone like Conner. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say that this is the world's most elaborate practical joke?"

Batman didn't joke.

Bruce stood and glared at Conner. "What exactly do you find humorous."  
  
Regardless of the climate control in The Fortress, Bruce pulled on a house coat over his pressure suit.  
  
"Nothing," Conner replied quickly, sitting up a little more, eyes still wide with shock. _He's not denying anything._  
  
"I ..." Conner rubbed his own forehead, "don't remember coming-" he winced. "I mean arriving at the fortress. How did we get here, exactly?" He'd never seen anyone succeed at looking intimidating in a housecoat before.  
  
 _You don't remember coming_. Bruce raised an eyebrow at the young man, but remained calm with him. "I have keys." Not that The Fortress took traditional locks and keys to enter into. Even so, Bruce had access. "You arrived unexpectedly."  
  
"Arrived unexpectedly and then drank my face off?" Conner's eyebrows went up as high as they could possibly go and then it dawned on him exactly where they were.  
  
"Is this Clark's bed!?"  
  
"Yes. To all three of your inquiries." Bruce moved to the window, looking out on the midnight sun as it skimmed the lowest part of the horizon. "I- thought you would remember."  
  
"Would you prefer to leave and pretend this never happened or would you like me to ... explain." For Bruce, he wasn't sure which was worse.  
  
Conner was ready to just start making a high pitched noise until all of this went away, like a distressed, but not particularly bright dog. No. Calm down. It might not be what you think. He chewed on his lower lip and swallowed hard. "Second one? Explain?"  
  
"Last night-" Bruce attempted calmly, though sighed in frustration. "We discussed my roll in Clark's life, at first." He looked at Conner over his shoulder again but did not turn to face him. "Why I was here in his absence."  
  
"However, you came here because you had questions that you felt The Fortress computer could answer for you. Instead, I was able to help you." Finally, Bruce turned, arms crossed over his chest as he spoke to Conner. "There were human experiences you were unsure about, so we discussed them."  
  
 _Like the world's scariest sex ed class ..._  
  
Conner started to remember. Steph kissing Tim on a rooftop, the two of them looking so matched, so human together that Kon flew to the top of the world to get away from it. He'd wanted to find Clark there, to pour his heart out, and found the Bat making shadows where there was none in the light-filled, crystalline fortress.  
  
So he'd drank instead, and apparently talked.  
  
"Discussed them?" Conner held his breath for a moment, noticing that Bruce was giving him the same distant, analytical, blue-eyed look Tim gave him sometimes.  
  
"With the aid of Martian wine, yes." Bruce confirmed. Though if the young man could not remember, then either his subconscious was already satisfied or they weren't important enough to begin with to recall.  
  
Conner wound the blanket he'd been hiding behind around himself and stood on the other side of the bed, the red fabric contrasting with the even tan of torso. "And what did we talk about exactly?" Conner was starting to get a little exasperated with Bruce's suspenseful retelling of the events of last night and he frowned a little.  
  
"We discussed Kryptonian physiology. The capabilities and the known limitations of a physical relationship between gods, demons, aliens, humans, or metahumans." Bruce said, hoping that would be enough to help remind the young man.  
  
Conner folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side in what could only be described as a politely dismayed expression. _This is where Tim gets it from_ , Conner thought, _why he sounds like a textbook when he's uncomfortable_. The only way to get Tim out of textbook mode was to make him relax, and Kon eased his arms down, stepping closer to Bruce, as he might have towards his best friend at the tower on a tense day.  
  
"I understand, we talked about sex, right? That's what you're telling me, because I'm just not that bright sometimes and you-" Conner smiled a little, disarmingly, "might have to spell it out for we simple minded Kansas folk."  
  
"Yes." Bruce sighed, knowing well enough that Conner (like his father) was not as simple as he pretended. "We talked about sex." What a Kryptonian could or could not do, depending upon their partner or manufactured environment.  
  
Conner hadn't actually stopped blushing since he'd rolled over to find Bruce in bed with him, but the color in his face deepened to an embarrassing degree and he looked down, suddenly reverting back to Conner Kent: Smallville farm boy posture. The blush went all the way down to places the blanket covered.

"And then ..." suddenly nervous, Conner started to move around the room, finding clothes where they seemed to have been flung around Clark's bedroom. He pulled his underwear on under the blanket, and then his jeans before socks and his flannel shirt. "And then what?" he asked, distracted by working the buttons as though he'd never encountered them before.  
  
"Conner." Bruce swallowed dryly, looking away, unable to tolerate the sight of Clark's clone in such an unfashionable, yet adorable state. "I miss him." He admitted.  
  
Just when he thought he couldn't have experienced a bigger shock than waking up with Bruce Wayne in bed with him, Bruce proved him wrong beyond a shadow of a doubt. Kon was unable to stop himself from stepping closer, unsure what to say. Sometimes Tim left him speechless like this too, with some private revelation that made Conner feel like he was allowed to watch something no one else could.  
  
"I miss him too," Conner said, quietly. Things hadn't been the same since Clark had gone off world, seemingly for good. He reached out, touching a hand to Bruce's shoulder, sympathetically. It was plain, now that Bruce not only had feelings but feelings for Clark. "Did you ever tell him?"  
  
Bruce's usually controlled heart beat began to increase at the suggestion. The tips of his fingers began to feel dusty, unreal, as if they would crumble into ash if he closed his hand into a fist. "He knows."  
  
"It's mutual." And yet very clearly never acted upon.  
  
And Clark left. Not for the first time, Conner felt guilty for thinking that Clark could be strangely cold sometimes. "If I had someone ... like you," Conner said, bashful again, not naming names. "I'd never leave." He gave Bruce's shoulder a very gentle squeeze before swallowing hard and stepping closer, pulling the other man into a slow, hesitant hug.  
  
Bruce smiled against Conner's shoulder, just a little. He was an impossible man to hug, so the boldness was appreciated. "We both know you already do." He said, stepping away after the embrace became too much to bear. "And so to ease your concerns- you should know that nothing ..." Bruce frowned slightly, not coming up with the precise word he wished to use, "Nothing of that nature, happened last night."  
  
Conner blinked, surprised that it wasn't exactly relief that flooded through him at the revelation. His eyebrows rose and he shook his head. "I don't understand, we ... I woke up naked and you were in bed with me. We didn't have sex is what you're saying?"  
  
"No. We talked. Sex was one of the subjects, but we did not have sex." Bruce assured, shoulders back and chin up, noble as ever.

"So ..." Conner spread his hands. "What did we do? I mean, if we just talked, then what were you doing still in bed with me?"  
  
"I do sleep, Conner." He said dryly before further amending the actions he had taken the night before. "We fell asleep together."  
  
"On purpose?" Conner asked, bluntly, unable to hide his surprise. Bruce hadn't exactly been on the opposite side of the huge bed when Conner woke up, he'd been right beside him, almost like he was there to watch him sleep. And had stayed there all night. "So you stayed in bed with me all night, close ... but didn't kiss me or anything like that, just ... laid there?"  
  
"A master Detective in you yet." Bruce said, amused by him. "Yes. We just laid there." It was almost a hint, a shadow, a taste of something domestic. For Bruce, who had come to The Fortress for relief, to be close to Clark in his absence, it had helped him through what would have otherwise been a lonely night.  
  
"Oh." They were still standing close, closer than he supposed most people stood to Bruce.  
  
Conner, even more than Clark was someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, and the wave of strange disappointment in his eyes was impossible to hide.  
  
"Well," Conner sighed, summoning his unnecessary glasses from the nightstand and putting them on. "I should probably get going, right?"  
  
Some how he had let Conner down, by doing the right thing. It was impossible, confusing. For a moment, he considered thanking Conner for staying with him, but reconsidered. It had been mutual. Conner had been looking for a connection just as much as Bruce had. "If you are fit to fly." Bruce ended up saying in the end.  
  
"I can walk a straight line and say the alphabet backwards if you need me to," Conner smiled, looking down. He imagined this might be a little like Clark must have felt around Bruce ... afraid to ask for anything from the man who held so much back so fiercely, scared of scaring him off. Conner understood why being in love with Bruce might be easier from another planet, it was a built in excuse for the distance Bruce put between them even when they were in the same room. It would have been hard, even for Clark, to bypass all that, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how mutual it was.  
  
"Alright. Well," Conner walked to the door, putting his hand on the handle, "I guess I'll see you around." He turned the handle, knowing Clark would approve, and stopped.  
  
 _I'm not Clark._  
  
Conner took a deep breath, pulling his hand away from the door and turned.  
  
 _I'm not Clark._  
  
He walked closer to the unapproachable man, and then a step closer, a step closer. "You deserve better than someone walking out on you," Conner murmured before leaning in and kissing Bruce on the mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> co-authored.


End file.
